


The Times and Tribulations of Walter M. Peck

by WickedMusic96



Category: Ghostbusters (Comics), Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989)
Genre: And he has no backstory, Because it's funny, Because magic user (latent magic) Peck is one of my favorite AU's for this guy, Gen, Small AU in which Walter Peck has magic, so who's to say he's not a magic user
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 04:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedMusic96/pseuds/WickedMusic96
Summary: Walter Peck has always known, deep down, that he was different from other men. But he wasn't entirely aware of just how different he really was...





	The Times and Tribulations of Walter M. Peck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slimy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slimy/gifts), [misfitcutie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfitcutie/gifts).



> (Sort of Magic User! Peck AU. Inspired by friends and RP's on my Tumblr!)

Ever since he was a child, Walter Peck knew there was something _off_ about him. Something he couldn’t quite place in words, but he could see it clear as day. Every time he passed a flower shop, the plants seemed to turn their attention to him. If he touched a closed bud, without even trying, he could make it open up, its petals shining vibrantly until he left. He could make them wilt with a look, and bring them back with a smile. Perhaps that was why he really joined the EPA; so that he could try that beauty on a larger scale. 

He’d hear talk of people claiming to bring the cold with them when they entered a room, but hadn’t known he was actually capable of radiating the cold when he entered a room, causing people to notice the draft, and check the doors to make sure they were shut tight, even if it was the middle of a sweltering summer. He could predict when the rain would fall with surprising accuracy, but the water never managed to ruin his days. Some nights, when lightning flashed  across the skies, Peck always felt this urge to run out into the night, to run and scream, to dance in the moonlight, to let the lightning course through his veins, feeling like it wouldn’t even hurt him. 

 

 He never acted upon these urges, feeling them to be too beneath a man of his stature. 

 

When he was 15, he tried to ride a kelpie. Only he didn’t know it was a kelpie, just assumed it was a very weird looking horse. It thrashed him around, and if not for Una seeing him as he tried to steer it from the pond, Peck would have drowned in the lake it came from. He stayed clear of ponds after that, as they brought forth panic attacks and night terrors that would plague him for months on end. Nightmares and dreams were always tough for him to deal with, as they seemed too real, and eventually became worrisome. Some nights he’d wake screaming in terror, sweating bullets and shaking. Other nights, he’d wake with scratches over his arms, and on one occasion, woke to find himself floating a few feet over his bed, before crashing onto the floor when he fully realized what was going on. He’d hear noises around his room, but not like the room was settling. It sounded more like a woman’s voice, talking to him softly. Saying things like “ _I’m so proud of you…” “Did you eat?” “Rest well, Walter…”_  always in tones just below a whisper, just enough that he could catch bits and pieces before he fell asleep. 

 And yet, despite all this, Walter Peck never believed in the idea of magic or the supernatural. Either because it seemed too stupid, too fantastical even for him, or too terrifying to believe he could have it within his blood. So he pushed it from his mind, chalking the random occurrences as either luck, chance, or just some weird thing that happened to him, not because of him. 

But then he had the unfortunate chance of meeting Peter Venkman. And everything came crashing down on his head, both figuratively and literally. Peck was thankful, at the very least, that he didn’t lose his job at the EPA, as they had been just as confused as he was, brushing it off as him being drugged somehow. But it wasn’t as simple as he had been lead to assume. The minute he walked home, suit still caked in marshmallow, he was seething. The lights in his apartment flicked on and off, and the room seemed to shiver. Pots, pans, plates, glasses, pictures, books- everything was ratting around the room, until Peck let out a howl of fury, causing things to shatter, books to fly out around him, pictures to fall to the floor, knives rattling and flying around his kitchen.  By the time he had finished yelling, the whole apartment looked like a tornado had hit, and yet he hadn’t even moved from beyond his living room. It took him a day to clean, but that was when he felt his mind had cleared, and when he focused hard enough, the china repaired, and the glass mended itself to be put away. Peck set out to get himself something to control what he could only describe as being magic, either with books, or with some trinket. After a month and a half of searching he was able to find a necklace in Ireland, one that seemed to call to him, to be put on and used for his problems, to be kept hidden under his shirt and tie. 

Flowers still bloomed when he walked past, but at a much slower and normal rate, and the whispers, while not completely silenced, would only come up if he forgot to eat or spent too much time working. But Peck had a mission, one he felt he should have done from the start, from the very moment he met Peter Venkman and the others.

 

_I’ll make sure that no one else in New York believes their cause, after nearly ruining my life. See how they’ll feel about not being taken seriously…They’ll see how it feels to be mocked…_


End file.
